


Won't You Stay Alive? (i will make you believe you are lovely)

by TransPanda



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: (bc he's not a dick for once), F/F, Lexa-centric, OOC Titus, blood mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-19 07:59:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7352650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TransPanda/pseuds/TransPanda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Left with no other option, Lexa commands her army to move on Arkadia, wiping them out. Including Clarke's mother, her friends, the people she cares about. Clarke is left broken, and Lexa is left having to deal with her guilt. </p><p>A snapshot of an alternate version of canon, set after the Clexa sex scene but before [redacted]. </p><p> </p><p>  <i>"Watching the joy with which her people carried out their celebrations did not bring her the comfort it usually did. Instead, with every laugh that sprinkled through the crowds, she felt nothing but guilt eating away at her. This occasion was not one to be celebrated. The death of innocents should not call for a toast."</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Won't You Stay Alive? (i will make you believe you are lovely)

There was a body before her. Numerous bodies, in fact. Mutilated, bleeding, torn apart by metal. Her swords, resting tightly between her fingers, dripped a thick red onto the worn dirt. Even worse, the same sanguine fluid slid off of her chin, clotted there again, and fell once more.

With a grounding rise of her chest, she sheathed her weapons with as much steadiness as she could muster. Her warriors had stopped fighting long ago, standing there watching her in awe as she had quickly and succinctly dealt with the group before her. The group of people who had breathed star-sprinkled air and now breathed nothing at all.

Her eyes blankly turned to her nearest warrior, ordering him and the others to start heading back the way they’d come. Their job was done. Blood had had blood and it was time to go home. The war was over.

But was it really a war if one of the parties hadn't even had a chance? If it hadn’t even been close to a fair fight?

Lexa blinked, turning from the scattered remains of what could be considered a massacre to some, and marched alongside her soldiers. The disappointed gaze of her most trusted advisor pierced her as she made her way to the front of the hoard.

“What?” she demanded, her voice challenging.

Titus swallowed, shaking his head slightly before tentatively answering, “I do not see her anymore.”

Lexa, confused and quickly growing annoyed, once again asked, “What? Who?”

Titus, boldly meeting her gaze now, replied, “The girl who, standing among her fellow _natblidas_ on the first day of training, said _‘I don't want to fight’_ .” Lexa felt something sharp strike her heart. Something intangible. Something she’d worked hard to rid herself of. Titus, with his disappointingly sad eyes, continued, “I do not see _you_ anymore, Lexa.”

Lexa turned from him and marched forward at a more confident pace, masking her confliction. “That is _Heda_ to you, Titus. Do not forget that.” After a short, suffocating silence, Lexa replied to his observation with a sharp, “Perhaps you no longer see her because she is now what she’s been forced to become.”

His resulting flinch was noticeable even out of the corner of her eye.

 

* * *

 

Clarke was heartbroken, that much was easily visible. She’d come to Lexa’s room after the initial council meeting to confirm the events of the march. There would be a celebration later that night, for another war done and finished. For the hope of peace.

Peace, however, was only for those who had the luxury of accepting it. For the people like her, for the people like Clarke, there would be no moment of relaxation. No moment of closure.

Now the two rested in Lexa’s room, Lexa dressing down carefully as Clarke sat on her bed, staring blankly at the wooden floor. She wanted to do something, to offer some reassurance, but she couldn’t. There was nothing to reassure. Lexa had, almost single handedly, just killed the people Clarke had so yearned to protect.

Settling softly on the furs next to Clarke, Lexa held herself back from reaching for the girl who held her heart. She would not have the luxury of a mutual love, either, and Lexa accepted that. For now, she simply wanted to comfort the girl who had lost everyone. Lost her mother, her friends, her people.

“Clarke,” she started softly, hoping the croak of her voice wasn’t as hoarse as it seemed to be. “It was the only option.” Clarke remained still for a moment, before sniffing once and nodding slowly. “Pike he… he had amassed an army. Your friends…”

Abruptly, Clarke stood. She pushed off the coat cradling her shoulders and stepped towards the clothes strewn across a nearby table. “Could I borrow something to wear for the celebration? I’m afraid I don’t have anything that would be suitable for such an occasion.”

The sardonic tone of her voice was all too noticeable, and Lexa felt her heart ache. She’d give anything for there to have been another way. She’d give anything to be a different person. Not the sadistic murderer that she knew she was. Not someone who’d murder the people her love cared for.

“I will get an assistant to prepare you an outfit,” Lexa replied, her hands coming together in her lap. “Although, you do not have to attend, Clarke.”

“And miss the party?” she asked, almost sarcastically. As Lexa stood she could see Clarke’s hands clenched around the soft silk of Lexa’s ceremonial dress. A dress stained with phantom blood and the wrinkles of the past.

With a sigh, Lexa pressed her left hand to the girl’s shoulder. Expecting Clarke to flinch from the hands that’d driven swords through her people not an hour ago, she was surprised when Clarke almost leaned into the touch. “You may rest in my chambers while the people take part in the… festivities,” she offered softly, her thumb rubbing lightly against the fabric of Clarke’s shirt.

Feeling the tensing of Clarke’s shoulders, Lexa prepared for her to pull away. Instead, Clarke turned to her, and the fire in her eyes was startling to say the least. “You didn’t even give me a chance to _warn them_.” Her voice was shaky, her eyes wet and accusing, her hands trembling by her sides.

“Clarke,” Her tongue clicked on the ‘k’, “You know my advisors would never have allowed that. Your friends, they could’ve told others, evacuated the entirety of your people before we even arrived.”

Clarke shook her head, her jaw practically shaking with the force with which she was grinding her teeth. “There were _good_ people there, Lexa. People that didn’t agree with Pike. People that were afraid, _innocent_.”

Lexa nodded, dropping her hand and steeling her expression. “War carries its casualties. The only thing we can do is appreciate their sacrifice and move forward.”

Clarke scoffed, eyebrows scrunching in frustration as she spat, “My _mother_ ,” Lexa noticed the way her face nearly crumbled at the word, “was one of those casualties, and you expect me to just move _forward_?” When Lexa hesitated to respond, Clarke sneered, “Thanks for the lesson though, Lex. Really helpful.”

At that, she turned and moved to exit the room. Lexa watched as she reached the door, watched as she faltered. Taking the chance, Lexa tentatively whispered, “You do not have to go through this pain alone, Clarke.”

Clarke’s hand shakily clenched around the doorknob. “Then I guess I’ll find someone else,” she shakily murmured, “I can’t even look at you right now.”

Then she was gone, the door shutting resolutely behind her. Lexa attempted to swallow the swell of emotion in her throat, turning her head to the side as her jaw clenched.

She had done this. She was the reason for Clarke’s pain, for her own, for the pain of the sky people who no longer lived. She was at fault.

Lexa calmly took three careful steps towards her bed, her arms stiff by her sides. After the third step she couldn’t stop herself from turning to the wall and slamming her fist into it. She heard the rustle of her guards outside the door as they no doubt shifted unsurely at the loud noise. Paying them no heed, Lexa took a deep breath, pulled her hand back, fisted it by her side. She would not lose control. She could not.

She did not deserve the luxury of losing control.

 

* * *

 

Watching the joy with which her people carried out their celebrations did not bring her the comfort it usually did. Instead, with every laugh that sprinkled through the crowds, she felt nothing but guilt eating away at her. This occasion was not one to be celebrated. The death of innocents should not call for a toast.

Clarke had yet to show, and Lexa found herself hoping she stayed in the tower, away from this blatant display of disrespect. She knew it would do nothing but hurt the girl further. Spirits knew Clarke had enough pain burdening her shoulders, she did not need more. Spirits also knew how much of that pain was Lexa’s own doing.

Shifting, Lexa cleared her throat to dispel the thoughts plaguing her mind. She attempted to force herself to enjoy the celebration. After all, her people would no longer be on the brink of war at every turn.

However, the cost could not be ignored. Her self-doubt, self-hate could not be ignored.

Lexa felt her heart stutter as she spotted an unmistakable flash of blonde. Clarke, in her fitted clothing of, no doubt, the finest fabric in Polis, would have looked nothing if not beautiful. And yet, the pain in her eyes, present in the sharp cut of her jaw and crinkle of her brow, turned the usually beautiful image into one that could only be described as heartbreaking.

The Commander’s gaze followed the blonde as she immediately made her way to one of the many alcohol distributors. Lexa felt a small frown take place on her features as she watched Clarke quickly down shot after shot, before ordering a larger drink and taking off.

Sighing deeply, Lexa turned away and focused on her people once more. Where previously critical analysis of her own actions resided, now concern found itself. She was unmistakably worried about the blonde. Her actions had caused this downward spiral Clarke could easily throw herself into. She had to do something to help, but how could she when she was the cause of her pain?

She was pulled from her thoughts as Titus walked up to her. “ _Heda_ ,” he greeted sternly, looking upon the rowdy crowds of jovial Polis citizens.

Lexa fought the urge to roll her eyes as she nodded in acknowledgment.

After a pause Titus commented, “The people of Polis seem to be enjoying the celebration.”

“Indeed,” she agreed, curious as to where he was going with this.

He cleared his throat, cupping his hands together behind his back. “And _Wanheda_?”

Lexa turned her head sharply. “What about _Wanheda_?”

“She has arrived.” He shifted. “I was not expecting her to attend.”

Sighing deeply, Lexa nodded. “Neither was I.”

Titus turned to his _Heda_ , eyes flickering between her and the blonde who was sat alone on a log, glaring at anyone that neared her. Carefully he asked, “How did she respond to the news?”

Lexa’s jaw clenched as she quickly snapped, “I don’t believe that’s any of your business, _fleimkepa_.”

He startled, but continued, “I can’t imagine she was emotionally sound after-”

“Mind your place, Titus,” Lexa interrupted quickly.

Titus straightened his back, turning to face Lexa. “I am simply-”

“You are simply putting your nose where it does not belong. _Wanheda_ is no worry of yours,” Lexa stated firmly, meeting his gaze coolly.

He sighed, his jaw working as he stared Lexa down. Eventually, he took in a deep breath, as if readying himself, and strongly stated, “I do not think you made the right choice, _Heda_.”

Lexa paused, shocked by his insubordination. She turned to face him fully while raising a threatening eyebrow. “Please, speak your mind, Titus.” The sentence almost sounded like a threat.

Titus nervously swallowed and nodded shakily. “I believe your attack on the skaikru camp could’ve been handled in a more… delicate fashion.”

Infuriated, Lexa’s nostrils flared as she stared down her nose at her advisor. Straining to keep her voice calm, Lexa asked, “In what way? Did you have a plan free of mass murder that you had not informed me of beforehand?”

The bite of her words caused Titus to flinch as he licked his lips. “I understand how your solution seemed like the only one, _Heda_ , but-”

“As far as I was aware, Titus, it _was_ the only one. Are you telling me that you had a plan all along that could’ve saved me from-” She blinked. “That could’ve ended in a much-needed alliance?”

“No, _Heda_.” He sighed. “I just feel that if we had spent more time on it, we could’ve come to a more amicable solution.”

She stepped forward, towering over her subordinate. “There was no _time,_ Titus, or have you forgotten how they murdered 300 of my warriors that I had sent there to protect them?” Her chest slightly heaved as her rage, her anger, _anxiety_ rose. Of course she had wished that there was another way, that the conflict had not needed to be solved through bloodshed. With the pushing of the council, though, and the increasingly malicious attacks from the sky people there was nothing she could do. She _had_ to move forward with the attack. There _had_ to be no other way, or she was truly, and honestly, a monster.

She turned quickly, before her desperation became too noticeable in her penetrating gaze. “Excuse me,” she snapped quickly, heading straight for the Polis tower. She needed to be alone, to be free of Titus’ tentative accusations and doubting gaze. To be free of her own inner reprimands and scathing remarks.

Storming into her room not longer after, Lexa appreciated her guards’ unbothered expressions. Appreciated the state of uncaring they seemed to be displaying.

She slammed the door to her chambers shut, leaning into it not long after. With her forehead pressed against the rough wood, Lexa took careful, measured breaths. She had done what was needed. She had done the right thing, the _only_ thing she could’ve done.

Pushing herself off of the stable anchor, she meandered towards her bed, right hand absentmindedly closing around the hilt of her dagger. She sat down on the bed, head tilted upwards as she attempted to gain control over herself. She was fine. She had to be fine.

Startled, Lexa turned as the door opened. She stood up at the sight of Clarke entering her chambers with a… concerned frown? Lexa studied the blonde as she closed the door, taking a few steps toward Lexa before stopping.

“Clarke?” Lexa asked after Clarke had made no move to do anything else.

Clarke shifted, gesturing to the door as she explained, “I saw you leave the party. You looked upset.”

“I’m fine,” Lexa assured quickly. Clarke sent her a disbelieving look. “Why… Not to be rude, but why are you concerned, Clarke? I was under the impression that you were upset with me?”

Clarke sighed and nodded. “Yeah, I am,  but I’m also kind of really drunk right now.” Lexa ignored the shard of pain in her chest at the realization that Clarke only cared because she was not in her right mind, nodding instead. “I could use someone,” Clarke said quickly, as if she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to get it out if she didn’t rush it. “I could just… I need someone right now, and I feel like you do too?”

Lexa studied Clarke’s face as she said this. Upon noticing the near desperation in her eyes, Lexa nodded, sitting down on her bed and patting the spot next to her. Clarke carefully sat next to her as she looked anywhere but at the Commander.

They sat in a moment of silence, just two women, broken by the world, by obligation, offering a silent comfort to the other. Just two women who continued to be pushed apart by their surroundings, but somehow always ended up sat next to each other in the end. Two girls, even, so young and yet so burdened with their duty to their people, burdened by the lives they’ve taken and lost.

Torn from her reverie, Lexa looked down at where Clarke had placed her left hand on Lexa’s right, halting the fidgeting she’d been doing with her dagger. Her eyes flicked up to see Clarke, furrowed brow and tense jaw, watching her with moist eyes.

Realizing that this moment needed no words, Lexa simply moved her hand back, moved her arm up, offering Clarke a comfort that she hoped she’d accept.

To her relief, she did. Clarke slowly leaned into Lexa’s right side, her head tucking underneath the Commander’s chin as her left arm stuttered against her back. Giving Clarke a moment to adjust, both physically and mentally, to the situation, Lexa waited to carefully lower her right arm to rest around Clarke’s shoulders. Breathing out heavily, Lexa’s chin moved to press closer to the top of Clarke’s head.

Warmth was quickly overtaking her chest, and she wasn’t surprised when she felt wetness drip onto her shirt. Swallowing back her own emotions, Lexa tentatively pressed Clarke closer to her. Hearing the shaky sigh below her, Lexa bit her lip to stop herself from letting out the sob crawling it’s way up her throat. She was fine. She was not going to cry. Not in front of someone. Not in front of Clarke.

And there they sat, until Clarke pushed them back so they were lying, and Lexa adjusted them so her head was rested on the pillows and her dagger was safely resting on her bedside table. Clarke’s tears would taper here and there, but they never failed to pick up again. It wasn’t until Clarke’s breathing was shakily even on her chest, her body resting heavily against her, that the tears stopped as Clarke fell into a hopefully peaceful sleep.

Lexa took in a wet gasp once she was sure that Clarke was asleep, her hand tightening over Clarke’s shoulder as, finally, the tears that had been pressing against the sides of her eyes broke free. She kept her sobs to a minimum, not wanting to wake the girl resting against her. The girl she knew deserved better than for her to be her comfort. The girl who held her heart so tightly. The girl so strong, so broken, so perfect.

The girl she did not have the luxury of deserving.

  


**Author's Note:**

> Also posted on my tumblr @whiteroseaf, thanks for reading <3


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